The Proper Care and Feeding of Anthony D DiNozzo Jr
by E. J. Morgan
Summary: After the events of 'Chained' an FBI investigation is ordered to assess NCIS' actions. Fornell has to interview everyone, including Tony, who's too tired for questions. Since he can't have contact with his team until he gives his statement, Fornell and Sacks decide to take him into custody. But can they put up with a sleepy DiNozzo and a constantly texting, worried Gibbs?
1. Chapter 1

„I need to talk to DiNutso and then-„

„No."

„Excuse me!?"

„I said: NO." – Gibbs insisted.

Fornell had just conducted the interview about the almost-disastrous undercover gig that had Tony disappearing for an agonizing 14-hour period chained, as they had later learnt, to a merciless throat-slasher criminal monster. Now that the horrible incident was finally over, Gibbs and co. only wished for one thing: to go home and sleep – preferably for at least two entire days.

Now, if Gibbs could only get rid of-

"You do know I was ordered to investigate, right? And that you all were ordered by the same person to cooperate with me?"

Of course, Gibbs did know all these. The Secretary of State was apparently not too impressed with their way of handling the delicate mission and had declared in a no-nonsense way that the FBI was to officially review everything they had done and make an assessment to see if it had been possible to avoid temporarily losing one of their own along with a criminal they had deliberately let escape…

Luckily – or not, it was up for debate right now – it was Fornell's team that had been chosen to do the honors. They had already talked to McGee – who was uncharacteristically confident about his conduct during the mission and had answered all the questions with a steady self-assuredness nobody had ever seen from him before; Kate who had, in fact, been unable to deny how worried she'd been for her partner during the whole time and now Gibbs, who had, naturally, insisted they had done their best and besides: everything had turned out all right in the end anyway.

Fornell would believe him, too, hadn't they known each other for ages. As it was, he could read between the lines and tell his friend was shaken to the core, and as close to his breaking point as only one time in his life before. Believing, even for a moment, that his protégé was dead, had taken its toll on the man.

"Not today, Tobias." – Sighed the lead NCIS agent tiredly, for once looking each and every one of his years; if not even more. – "Let him be for today."

The FBI investigator really hated his job sometimes and loathed what he had to say right now:

"You know I can't do that, Jethro." – He began apologetically. – "I either talk to him now or I'll have to take him into custody. Either way, he can't have contact with you until he's given his statement. You know the drill." – He held up his hand when he saw a protest coming. – "I've already been more lenient than I should, allowing him to be examined by Doctor Mallard." – He pointed out.

And it was true: according to regulation, the 'key witness' should have been completely separated from everyone else until questioning to avoid any possibility of outside pressure.

"Duck won't try to influence him."

"I know. That's not the point."

"Then what _is_ the point, Tobias?"

"That he needs to talk to us now."

"No."

"Jethro…" – Fornell ran his hand through his meager hear in frustration. Arguing with the man was undeniably more stressful than a week of investigation without any leads.

"He's not well enough for-"

At that moment, the elevator chimed and Tony stepped out, supported by a weary-looking Doctor Mallard and his clearly overwhelmed young assistant.

The kid himself looked truly terrible: he was much thinner than Fornell remembered and the FBI agent could have sworn the boy was only halfway awake as he shuffled to his desk and literally fell into the chair.

He was wearing navy blue pajamas with a small NCIS logo on them, and his hair was wet and sticking up in all directions. He had definitely recently taken a shower and hadn't bothered to use a hairdryer afterwards. Or a comb.

He dropped his head onto his folded arms on the table and peered up at them from there, like a sleepy baby from the crib. Damn, he looked adorable.

If it hadn't been for the thick bandage covering the young man's left wrist (hiding, Fornell knew, the ugly bruise caused by the handcuff he'd had to endure for many hours), the FBI agent might have laughed at the scene. This way though, he only felt his throat tighten.

"DiNutso…" – The boy slightly raised his head and turned towards him with obvious difficulty.

"Fornell…? Oh, hi." – He mumbled confusedly as if only noticing the agent's presence.

Gibbs gave his long-time friend a meaningful glare; daring him to as much as suggest the interview.

Fornell sighed and waved for Sacks to step closer. The other FBI agent had been, until now, silently standing by the window and observing the happenings without intervening, letting his boss take charge.

"Come on, DiNutso. We're going."

The boy sluggishly blinked.

"Going where?"

"I'm taking you into custody..."

Twin groans from Sacks and Gibbs followed his statement, while the latter also made a threatening move towards him with a murderous expression on his face.

"I told you, Tobias-"

"… to my home. Boy needs to sleep."

Sacks groaned again but finally grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him into a semi-standing position. For his part, the young man didn't seem to mind the idea of being taken into FBI custody as long as it meant he could sleep… then again, he might not have understood what was going on at all. It was hard to tell right now.

Doctor Mallard looked for a moment as if he wanted to protest and perhaps offer the hospital as an alternate solution instead, but in the end he just shrugged.

Gibbs blinked.

"But… Tobias…"

"I'll take care of him, Jethro. I promise." – And he would. He could see that the boy had been to hell and back and even he didn't have the heart to torture him any longer. – "Come on, DiNutso. Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

Fornell, Sacks and Tony had somehow made it to the garage where the FBI's standard black SUV with the tinted windows was parked. Getting the ragdoll-agent into the vehicle proved a bit more difficult…

"Ron, go to the other side and pull him in!" – Instructed the older man. – "He can sleep on the backseat."

"Remind me again why we're doing this…?" – Complained the senior FBI agent while grabbing Tony by the shoulders and pulling him so that he was as comfortable as possible. Not that it mattered in his opinion: the young man could have been stuffed into the trunk and wouldn't have noticed it. So, why bother…? – "We could just have put him into a nice cell with a cot." – He continued while Fornell draped a coat over their sleeping charge. – "He wouldn't have minded…"

The death glare from his boss had him rethink his protests and get behind the wheel instead. Tony didn't stir during the thirty-minutes' drive and Sacks used the silence to wonder what he'd gotten himself into or how much he was going to regret it.

When they arrived, Fornell jumped out of the car and said:

"You bring him up, I'll open the door and get the guest bedroom ready." – With that he disappeared, leaving a disbelieving Sacks gaping after him.

' _How the hell am I supposed to get DiNozzo up to the fourth floor completely alone!?'_

Though, he had to admit – thought Sacks as he navigated the sleeping agent out of the elevator a few minutes later – he couldn't claim that DiNozzo had complained much about the rough handling: he had barely grunted in his sleep when Sacks accidently hit his head against the front entrance and hadn't even noticed it when the lift doors closed on his dangling right arm.

All in all, it had been a pretty eventless struggle, and soon Sacks crossed the corridor towards his boss' three-bedroom apartment with the NCIS agent cradled in his arms like a small child and contently slumbering, heedless of the world and everything going on around him.

As soon as he pushed the door open with his shoulder (thus thrusting Tony's legs against the door a bit harder than absolutely necessary) and stepped into the living room, he found himself face to face with- Fornell's cellphone.

"What the-!?"

"Ssssh!" – Chided his team leader sternly, pointedly looking at their guest. – "Don't wake him!"

"You took a picture of me carrying DiNozzo!" – Whispered the agent angrily.

"Actually: I took three." – Fornell said proudly. – "Emily taught me. This one's particularly cute." – He declared, shoving the cell into the younger agent's face so that he could inspect the artful photo.

Sacks shook his head in desperation.

"Whatever! Can I put him down now? He's not very heavy but still, my back is starting to ache…"

"Sure. This way."

Fornell's guest bedroom was elegantly furnished and spacious, with a huge king-size bed standing in the middle, situated vertically to the wall. Sacks lowered the still oblivious young agent onto it, while the FBI team-leader covered him with a thick blanket and arranged the fluffy pillows under his head.

Having made sure their NCIS colleague had slept through their ministrations undisturbed, they quietly exited the room. Fornell left the door slightly ajar, like he had done when Emily had been smaller. At Sack's amused expression, he huffed in annoyance:

"So that I'll know when he wakes up." – Sacks chuckled and mumbled something about old mother hens being ridiculously overprotective. – "Hey! You don't know DiNutso like I do! He could burn down my apartment if left unattended. I just worry about my property, that's all."

"Of course, Tobias. Of course…"

Fornell was about to argue and offer some smart comeback when his eyes landed on his forgotten phone and noticed he had three unanswered calls and an unread SMS.

"Gibbs." – He explained, glad that he had remembered to turn down the volume before; DiNutso would surely be grumpy when woken by a phone call. – "He wants to know if everything's fine." – He continued while absent-mindedly typing an answer.

Sacks snorted at the antics of the old friends.

"It's amazing he even knows how to write an SMS." – He remarked.

"He doesn't. Must be McGee…"

Soon, the senior FBI agent's phone pinged again.

' _Did he eat?'_

"Now he wants to know if we fed the boy!"

"Oh, come on! You must be kidding." – Fornell tossed the cell at him which he caught just in time before it could have landed on the floor, possibly in hundred small pieces. – "Or not…" – Sacks concluded. – "What is it about DiNozzo…?" – He wondered.

The older man snatched the cell back.

 _'Still asleep.'_

He replied, hoping this would be enough to put his friend at ease.

Of course, it wasn't.

 _'Hungry when he wakes. Likes pizza. Sausage, pepperoni, extra cheese.'_

"I don't believe it!" – Groaned the FBI agent. – "Now he expects me to order pizza for the boy!"

Sacks thought about it for a moment.

"Hm… Actually, pizza does sound like a wonderful idea… A Hawaiian, maybe…"

"Geez, man! Y'all be the death of me one day!" – Fornell threw his wallet at his smirking subordinate and instructed him to call a place he knew was open all night and had great food.

And no, he didn't know this because he sometimes ordered in himself.

Ah, well, all right, maybe he didn't mind the idea so much after all… - "A Viennese for me."


	3. Chapter 3

Sometime later Fornell and Sacks were watching basketball on the television. They had just finished their pizza and were currently contently drinking a beer each when the lead agent's phone vibrated yet again with the arrival of another text message. Feeling a bit wary of the prospect of getting another assignment in the care of one Anthony D. DiNozzo Jr., he opened the SMS and read out loud:

 _'He eat yet?'_

Sighing in resignation, Fornell clumsily typed his reply.

 _'STILL ASLEEP, Jeth. It's 12 PM.'_

 _'Buy the Pizza?'_

 _'YES!'_

 _'Tea?' –_ Momentarily confused, Fornell didn't know what to say to that. The next message was obviously meant as an explanation, when Gibbs had – correctly – interpreted the silence as cluelessness. – _'Best after hard day.'_

The FBI agent nodded, forgetting for a moment that Gibbs couldn't see him.

 _'Sure. Got some.' –_ He sent back.

 _'Earl Grey?'_

 _'That too…'_

Hoping against hope his friend would be content that that, he was about to place the cell phone back onto the table again when another SMS arrived.

 _'Checked on him?'_

Fornell exhaled slowly.

"Now he wants me to check on him!"

Sacks, who up until now had been watching his boss' quickly changing ridiculous expressions, smiled in pretended good humor.

"Of course he wants that."

Giving his subordinate a nasty glare that suggested they possibly wouldn't be working together for long if the younger man didn't lose the attitude, Fornell heaved himself from the comfortable couch and made his way towards the guest bedroom, all the while wondering why exactly he was obeying his old pal's demands as if they were orders from his director…

He was unsurprised to hear his senior field agent follow him; if Tony was Gibbs' loyal St. Bernard then Sacks was his, regardless of their constant bantering, especially about the problem at hand right now.

The two men cautiously pushed the door open just a bit wider, and silently peered inside so as not to wake the sleeping occupant. What they saw caused them to do a double take though: the sheets had been kicked to the floor in an undignified heap, the pillow crumpled and tossed at the end of the bed, and the young NCIS agent was lying diagonally on the big bed, breathing heavily and irregularly, with his eyes half open and looking as weak as a newborn kitten.

Sacks threw the door completely open and, abandoning all elegance, both FBI agents sprinted into he room with the speed of light.

"DiNutso…? What's wrong?" – Fornell tried but he only received a groan and some incomprehensible mumbling in return.

When Sacks turned on the lights, Tony squinted and tried to turn away from the offending brightness but was stopped by the lead agent who was checking his temperature and pulse.

"How's he?"

"He's burning up. DiNutso…? Tony… Can you hear me?" – Another moan and a weak attempt of a slap towards Fornell's restraining hands was all the answer Tony offered.

"I'll wet a cloth." – A worried Sacks declared, already halfway to the bathroom.

His boss called after him while simultaneously trying to calm the squirming sick young man.

"Use the towel you'll find there!"

The senior field agent was back in a minute with no less than three dripping wet towels, looking flustered. At his boss' questioning glance, he said sheepishly:

"I didn't know which one you meant… Ahm…" – He looked around helplessly as if expecting a doctor to jump out of the nearest closet and hurry to their rescue. Sadly, this didn't happen which meant they were completely and utterly alone with the problem. – "Tobias… do you know what to do now?"

"I'm the father of a young child, Ron. Naturally, I do. Don't panic."

The other man couldn't claim to feel much better, but wisely kept his mouth shut and followed his boss' instructions instead. They covered Tony's forehead and wrists (mindful of his previous injuries) with the wet towels and settled him into a more comfortable position. They couldn't help but notice for the first time how the enormous bed dwarfed the young man, making him look even more vulnerable than he already really was.

Fornell pulled the cover up to Tony's chin and ran his hand through his tousled hair.

"Will he be all right?"

"Of course he will be. He just had a rough time and needs to rest, that's all."

"Good." – Seeing his boss' poorly concealed amused smirk, Sacks quickly added defensively: - "Not that I care about what's going on with DiNozzo, mind you. I'm just worried what Gibbs would do if something were to happen and-"

"Shit! Gibbs!" – Fornell sprinted to the living room with a speed that belied his age and grabbed his cell off the coffee table where he'd previously left it unattended. – "If I don't answer, he'll come here! But… what should I write?" – He looked at his colleague questioningly but the other man just shrugged.

"How should I know? He's your friend. Just don't tell him I'm involved. I'm quite loyal to you but that ends at this point; I prefer living to being slaughtered."

Fornell glared at him for a while before typing:

 _'Just a small fever. All good. Don't worry.'_

It didn't take ten seconds for his phone to start to incessantly vibrate, this time because of a demanding call. Glad that it was still on silent, the lead FBI agent pushed the answer button and opened his mouth to greet the caller but didn't get the chance to speak.

 _\- What do you mean by 'just a small fever'!? Tobias, I swear, if he's sick-_

\- Geez, calm down, Jethro! – Fornell had to hold the cell a bit farther from his ear for fear he'd become deaf. – He's fine, we're here with him.

\- ' _We'? Who's 'we'?_

Sacks groaned and didn't feel comforted at all when his boss smiled at him in a mock-apologetic way.

\- Ron Sacks is here too. He's helping me take care of your boy.

 _\- Jesus! I'm coming over._

\- No, you're not.

 _\- Tobias-_

\- Jethro, I obviously haven't questioned him yet and you're not going anywhere near him until I do!

 _\- Fine. Then Ducky-_

\- This applies to everyone on your team.

 _\- He's not on my team._

\- Let me rephrase it then: everyone at your agency.

Fornell could hear his friend muttering angrily at the other end of the line but he couldn't make out any words – which was probably a good thing since he had a feeling his ears might have burnt… Right now, the hisses and groans sounded like the growling of an old engine; quite ominous.

He decided to let the man rant and rave while he finished his beer. It was about two minutes later that he heard his NCIS counterpart sigh in defeat, obviously spent after his tirade.

 _\- But you'll take care of him, right? The two of you?_

\- Sure, Jethro. – Fornell promised sincerely. – You know we will.

 _\- Yeah, I know. Because if you won't, I'll hold both of you personally responsible and you'll have to deal with me and my entire team!_

With that, the line went dead and Fornell – after staring at the now silent cell in a daze for a while – turned to his colleague with a smirk.

"So, Ron." – He began, handing the man another can of beer. – "Make yourself comfortable; it looks like you're stuck here with me for the time being."

Luckily, Tony was sleeping too deeply to be awoken by the loud 'thud' that followed Sacks falling from the couch at this announcement.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been an incredibly long night with Tony tossing and turning in feverish nightmares, Sacks and Fornell taking turns soothing him and changing the wet towels in order to bring down his temperature; not to mention Gibbs calling and/or writing every half an hour, demanding update on the condition of his favorite agent.

By the time the sun came up in the morning, Tony was feeling much better, while his two caretakers looked as if they had been run over by a truck. When Tony opened his eyes, feeling a bit weak and achy but otherwise all right, he found himself in an unfamiliar bed – that was, in all honestly, probably the most comfortable piece of furniture he'd ever slept on – and two FBI agents asleep on the floor at each sides next to him.

He couldn't for the life of him figure out how he had ended up… well… _here_. Wherever 'here' was. His memories since shooting Jeffrey were hazy at best and completely non-existent at worst; he thought he could remember his boss' worried face, and Ducky assisting him to take a shower… argh, well, that one was embarrassing, especially since he seemed to remember Palmer had been present at one point for it as well. Luckily, Kate and Abby hadn't seen him naked… Well, at least he believed and hoped so.

Anyway, he was fairly sure he had been brought back to the bullpen after that… no… wait: his wrists had been bandaged first by… Ducky? Probably. Or the autopsy gremlin; seeing that perhaps Ducky had thought this was a great opportunity for his young trainee to practice on someone living for a change. Not that he was certain he could be considered 'living' in the near-comatose state he'd been in.

After going back to the bullpen, he found that his memory went blank; he literally had no idea what had happened after that. So, there was the question again: how had he ended up in this undeniably wonderful bed with the two FBI agents who probably hated him the most snoring loudly on the floor? Where was Gibbs or Kate or even McGeek? Or anyone from NCIS; his own agency? How had these two carried him here without him noticing and… really: why was he tangled in a bunch of slightly wet towels?

But most of all: _where was the bathroom!?_ Eventually ruling this last question the most important one, Tony carefully navigated himself towards the edge of the bed, wincing when his abused joints protested against the action.

' _Why do my muscles hurt so much?'_ – He wondered silently as he moved his feet down on the incredibly soft and warm carpet, mindful not to step on Fornell who had just emitted a loud snort and turned onto his side in his sleep.

Carefully stepping over the lead FBI agent, Tony exited the bedroom and went to explore the house, looking for the toilet. He soon found it inside a spacious bathroom just to the left from the room he had come from. And if he was already in there, the bathtub and the various bath foams looked very inviting as well…

After a delicious hot bath, he snooped around in the apartment, having decided he wasn't tired anymore but rather hungry instead. He found the fridge easily enough and tentatively opened it. While he'd never had trouble looking through Kate's purse or McGeek's desk drawer uninvited, he usually drew the line at raiding others' food supply. All his reservations about the matter melted instantly though as soon as he spotted his favorite kind of pizza right at eye-level, waiting just for him. He quickly snatched the Italian dish and unceremoniously pushed it into the microwave, his mouth already watering in anticipation of eating it soon.

While he was waiting for the delicious food to heat up properly (and why did it take that long anyway?!), he studied the numerous magnets and other decorations that littered the place. He had already concluded during his earlier roaming that this must be Fornell's home, since there were photos of a blond little girl resembling the grumpy FBI agent all over the living room. Even in the kitchen: smaller, brightly-colored plates and cute cutlery with the pictures of cartoon figures stood on the counter, and the drawings of said small child hung on the fridge door, held firmly in place by various Disney princess magnets. Tony had never seen a happy home like that before; his own childhood house having been kept spotlessly clean by the staff and – at his father's strict orders – carefully void of any indication of a little boy living there at all. It wouldn't do for business partners to realize he'd had a trouble magnet for a son, the man had explained. Tony, as such, had always been sent to his room and instructed to remain quiet while his father entertained colleagues, pretending to be an independent bachelor whose only desire in life was to work for them or with them. That second part, at least, had been true: the man hadn't cared for his son or his late wife for a moment, Tony knew this now. Back then however, he simply hadn't been able to figure out what he'd done wrong to deserve that kind of treatment and what he should do to earn his father's love…

Finally, the microwave finished its work and gave a loud 'ping' to signal the end of its course. Tony winced and listened for a moment for any sounds of the two men having woken but soon determined they luckily hadn't. He grabbed his pizza and a huge mugful of his favorite tea that had, by chance, also waited for him, already half-prepared. This was better than a five-star hotel, he decided contently, as he sat on the couch and started surfing the Fornell family's Netflix for something to watch.

"Wonderful!" – He had chosen one of his favorite movies (The Wolf of Wall Street), so he settled down with his food and drink to relax and enjoy some downtime.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Two films, three mugs of tea and the entire pizza later Tony was again sleeping blissfully, completely unaware of the two FBI agents gaping at him.

"How could he eat that much?"

"He's DiNutso. That's what he does."

"But he's not even overweight! That's impossible!"

"No. I told you: he's DiNutso. Everything's possible when it comes to him." – Fornell said it as if it made complete sense. – "At least he didn't try to leave. Imagine trying to explain to Jethro that we've lost his boy."

"God forbid!" – Sacks took a step closer and gently pulled the remote control from the oblivious man's hand. – "Shall we wake him?" – He whispered a bit desperately.

"Nah, leave him be. He'll wake when he's ready."

Fornell, ignoring the other man's relieved sigh, grabbed his cell and typed:

' _Boy's fine. Fever's down. Sleeping again.'_

The answer was immediate, clearly showing that Gibbs, unlike Fornell and Sacks, had probably not slept a moment but waited for news on his colleague's health instead.

 _'He ate?'_

 _'Oh, yeah: pizza, tea gone. Watched TV. Fell asleep._

' _Good.'_

Hoping his friend would finally be able to rest now, the lead FBI agent threw his phone onto the table and pulled a deck of cards from one of the drawers.

"Poker?" – He asked.

"Sure!"

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

When Tony woke again, he found Fornell and Sacks busy arguing and while they were obviously trying to keep their voices down, the were failing at it spectacularly.

"You cheated!"

"No, I didn't! But you did! I saw you put that card back and then take another one when you thought I wasn't looking!"

"I did no such thing!"

Tony chuckled, the sound finally drawing the attention of the other two.

"Kids, kids, kids… Ts-ts." – He said, mock-seriously, scooting over to see the cards in both men's hands. – "He's got a two pair…" – He pointed at Sacks who glared at him. – "… and he has a Full House." – He pointed at the triumphant-looking Fornell. – "He wins."

The FBI team leader proudly pulled all the M&Ms towards himself, but before he could eat any of them, Tony snatched the whole pile up and away from him.

"Hey, DiNutso! Those are mine! I won them!" – If he sounded somewhat whiny, it was pure imagination, of course.

"Nope." – Tony smiled cheekily and threw half a dozen candies into his mouth, causing his next words to sound muffled and slurred. – "'Cause you did indeed cheat." – Sacks gave an evil smirk, upon which Tony turned towards him, pointing an accusing finger. – "And so did you." – The smirk was immediately wiped off the agent's face.

Fornell shook his head, watching as the young NCIS agent quickly made all the M&Ms disappear.

"I'm so glad you're feeling better, DiNutso." – He said more than a little bit sarcastically. – "If you're feeling completely rested, well-fed and also otherwise comfortable enough with the temperature and the humidity of the room, maybe we should proceed-"

"As a matter of fact, Toby…" – Tony cleared his throat. – "I'm feeling a bit achy all over and my throat is sore, not to mention my wrists…" – He held up his hands to show off his already fading but still a bit visible bruises.

"DiNozzo…" – Sacks warned. – "Don't try our patience!"

"Just don't slack, Slacks because then you'll be sacked!" – Tony countered in an annoying sing-song voice.

"Huh!?" – The FBI agent blinked while Fornell tried and failed to cover a laugh by badly pretending to have a violent coughing fit. He just shrugged at his right-hand man's exasperated expression and turned to his guest.

"And how long do you think it will take for you to get better, DiNutso?"

Tony seemed to think hard about the matter.

"Hmmm…" – He wondered. – "I don't know… Maybe a few days?"

"You have until Friday." – Came the strict verdict. Since it was Tuesday, Tony decided it wasn't such a bad deal, so he nodded sweetly. – "And Emily comes Friday afternoon, so you better be gone by then."

"Okay." – Tony smiled charmingly, then suddenly clapped his hands as if they had just finished a big assignment that had gone particularly well and deserved a praise for it. – "Do you have popcorn? It would be great with this movie…"


	5. Chapter 5

The next two and a half days were spent watching TV, playing cards (Fornell tried to cheat each time and Tony and Sacks teamed up to catch him at it and teach his a lesson by taking all his M&Ms), teaching Tony how to play chess and eating lots of Italian food.

The FBI agents had their suspicions that their NCIS charge hadn't been completely honest when he'd complained of pain and weakness but since his fever still sadly returned each evening (even if luckily, not so high anymore), they agreed not to try to force the interview just yet. Well, that and the fact that they were both afraid of what Gibbs might say (or do… khm…) if they rushed things. The man hadn't stopped sending text messages and even called at least twice a day to make sure that everything was still all right with his SFA and the FBI wasn't trying to cover up any problems.

The messages usually went like this:

 _'Did he eat enough?'_

 _'Did he sleep well?'_

 _'Any trouble?'_

 _'How's the fever?'_

Or Fornell's personal favorite:

 _'He's not BORED, right!?'_

If he didn't know any better, he'd think Jethro was an overprotective father to the boy, not his strict, demanding boss who should be pushing them to get his agent back at work ASAP instead of ordering them to cuddle him!

The phone calls were even more ridiculous, since his friend couldn't type very well (actually, it was a miracle he managed it at all), he poured most of his feelings of concern into his spoken words instead. And while he wasn't allowed to talk to the boy himself ( _'It is still an ongoing FBI investigation, damn it, let's not make a complete joke out of it, shall we!'_ – Tobias had said), and Sacks was still refusing to help out with that particular task, it left Fornell to listen to his friend's rants and lectures about what temperature of water Tony liked for his showers ( _'Don't let the hot water run out before he takes his 10 minutes long shower, Tobias, I mean it!'_ ), or even how he liked his toast the best ( _'You don't burn it too much, do you!? Oh, and you do have cranberry jam, right?!'_ ).

On Thursday evening, after a fifteen-minute long tirade about how to subtly(!) prevent the boy from staying up all night watching TV, Fornell just couldn't take it any longer.

\- Geez, Jethro! We're talking about a grown man here! You don't really want me to get chocolate just to bribe him, do you?

Naturally, Gibbs _had_ wanted him to get chocolate for his agent – the finest dark chocolate, if it's available – so Fornell didn't have any other option but to send Sacks out to buy some.

"And bring a bar for Emily, too, if you're already at it!"

His loyal colleague grumpily muttered an affirmation and left the apartment to do the shopping. He probably also needed some time for himself, since he – supportive as ever – hadn't left the entire time, insisting his boss needed all the help he could get with ' _that monster that called himself an NCIS agent but was in reality the Devil himself_ '. Surprisingly though the two agents actually seemed to get along well, even enjoy each other's company sometimes. Aside from teaming up against the oldest of them when playing cards, they also both liked watching Star Wars and both hated reality shows with a passion. They both drank tea and loved pizza, and they also read crime novels. Really, mostly they just behaved like brothers…

Despite their earlier agreement to clear the apartment by then, Friday afternoon still found Tony and Sacks as residents of the Fornell household, and when Gibbs and Tobias' ex-wife, Diane, brought Emily over, she inquired in surprise:

"What's that? Don't tell me you're going to work with Emily here!"

Tony, meeting his boss' dreaded ex for the first time, smirked evilly to himself. He had never been able to image anyone talking to these confident men this way, but now, however unbelievable it was, he could see it with his own two eyes: Fornell fidgeted nervously and refused to look at her as he stuttered an answer.

"No, Diane… It's just… ahm…"

"A friendly gathering, ma'am." – Sacks hurried to his boss' rescue.

"Uncle Ron!" – The blond little girl form the pictures, who had been previously eyeing Tony with poorly concealed distrust, now squealed in delight and jumped into the tall FBI agent's arms. Sacks caught her easily enough and spun her around, causing the little one to giggle in glee.

"Yeah, Diane. They're… _friends_." – Nodded Tobias, obviously struggling with himself to call Tony a 'friend'. He should have known not to get involved with Jethro's lot! They were all bad news and ridiculously difficult to get rid of once let into your life… He should have learnt it when he divorced his friend's ex, but no: now he had to take in his boy as well! How stupid of him, really…

"I've seen him…" – The angry woman pointed accusingly at Tony. – "… in a photo in Jethro's basement."

Tony's eyes widened in shock: his boss kept pictures of the team in his house? Wow! But wait… Did that mean that his ex-wife still visited him there…? Hmm… He couldn't wait to tease Gibbs with this!

"He's NCIS, Diane. Jethro's team. But-"

"Then what is he doing here? Is something going on that I should know about? Tobias, I swear, if you're endangering-"

Tony felt it was time to step in, so he extended his hand towards her and introduces himself as politely as he could.

"Anthony DiNozzo, ma'am. And there's no danger here. Well, if you don't consider me almost blowing up the microwave a danger…"

Diane shook Tony's hand and seemed to be satisfied with his manners, because she soon kissed Emily goodbye and left – though not before giving Fornell another warning glare.

The NCIS agent shivered; she was definitely a frightening woman. He felt movement by his legs and looking down, found mini-Fornell standing in front of him, with her hands on her hips and looking quite stern for a five-year-old. She must have that from her mother, Tony decided, as he crouched down to her level.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

She narrowed her eyes dangerously at him and Tony had to fight to urge to run screaming into his room. To say he didn't like children would be an understatement.

"My mommy doesn't like you." – She declared seriously.

"I'm sure that's not true." – Said Tony slowly, ignoring Sack's chuckle as unimportant background noise. – "I'm a very nice guy, everyone likes me."

Fornell cleared his throat pointedly and Emily rolled her enormous blue eyes. It was good to know she resembled her father as well…

"It's okay." – She said this as if she were talking to a particularly dumb toddler, patting his shoulder gently and looking sympathetic. – "My mommy doesn't like dad or Uncle Jethro either and I still love them. She said I could have my own opni… opin… opt… _thoughts_."

"Great…" – Tony mumbled, straightening. – "A kid with opinions. I've always said I hated children…"

"More like they can't stand you, DiNutso." – Countered Sacks then high-fived Emily.

When Tony started to protest loudly at that, and a long argument followed, Fornell sighed in defeat. This was going to be a long weekend, he decided…

 _ **AN.: I wish everyone very happy holidays at that special time of the year! Thank you all for reading and a special thanks for the kudos, comments, reviews, follows, favorits, etc! :)**_


	6. Chapter 6

The weekend proved to be indeed very interesting.

It turned out that Tony, for all his bitching about 'hating' children, connected very quickly and easily with Emily – according to Sacks, it was because he was mentally about her age; against which statement Tony protested vehemently: according to him, it was preposterous to even suggest he was childish. He crossed his arms and pouted at the mere mention of it.

But be as it may, fact was that by Friday afternoon, he'd become 'Uncle Tony' and by the evening the very same day, 'the bestest friend ever'. He helped her find good hiding places during a long game of hide and seek with the two older agents on Saturday, and painted with her for an hour right afterwards, getting colorful spots on both of their hands, cheeks and – there was no clear explanation for this but – into Tony's hair and on Emily's socks. Later, he taught her how to play 'If You're Happy And You Know It…' on the piano and promised her to bake gingerbread cookies the next day. That, of course, prompted her to shout out in delight, Sacks to just shake his head in disbelief and Fornell to let out a mortified gasp.

"DiNutso… Do you even know hot to bake!? 'Cause I sure as hell don't and I sincerely doubt Ron does…"

"No, but… Well. We'll figure it out. I mean: really, how hard can it be?"

The lead FBI agent threw his hands in the air when he saw his excited daughter high-five the NCIS agent, and finally realized that they both had already decided to create a mess in his kitchen, and no matter what he said about it, it wouldn't change their minds anymore. A mess he'd probably have to clean up alone, of course. But he hadn't seen Emily so thrilled about anything for ages, so… ahh… why not!?

"Let's just make a list of all the ingredients you'll need and- No, you're not going anywhere, DiNutso! You're still pale and Gibbs would kill me. No, no. Ron and I will do the shopping."

At that, Tony grinned cheekily and Sacks looked horrified. Presumably, never before had he needed to buy things for baking and he didn't find the idea very appealing. But, with his boss staring strictly at him, what could he do? So, in the end, with a long list of necessary things, the two men left the 'kids' alone in the apartment, hoping everything will still be in one piece when they'd come back.

As it turned out the next day: baking gingerbread _could_ be very difficult when you were a federal agent with no clue as to how to even operate the oven, let alone how to properly mix the dough. As a matter of fact, they couldn't even tell the difference between salt and baking soda.

"These all look the same to me…" – Shook his head Sacks. – "Maybe we shouldn't have poured them all out at once…" – He concluded wisely.

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Ya think, Slacks?" – He asked sarcastically, unconsciously echoing his boss' favorite phrase. – "Taste them!"

" _You_ taste them, DiNozzo!"

Emily snickered at her two favorite friends' constant banter and scratched her nose, getting flour on it, giving her an appearance as if she were covered in snow. It was adorable.

"I want to cut out the shapes!" – She insisted, at which her father sighed exasperatedly.

"We don't have anything to cut yet, Emily." – He reminded his bouncing daughter. – "First these two clowns should stop arguing and start mixing the ingredients!" – He added with a pointed stare at the two younger agents.

"Yes, sir!" – Tony mock-saluted with a large spoon and clumsily measured the brown sugar.

"I love cinnamon!" – Emily declared, having; unnoticed by the others; eaten a big helping of it. – "Hmmmm!"

"Emily! That is for the cookie!" – Tobias grabbed the box out of her hand, ignoring the vehement protests. – "If you eat it, what will we put into the dough?"

"But daddy, Uncle Tony and Ron are still arguing and you said we won't be able to bake until they stop… And they'll never stop so we'll never bake and then we won't need the cinnamon and-"

She was right of course: Tony and Sacks had started a row about how much cloves and ginger was needed and had ended up tearing a small bag containing some fine white powder, that was covering both of them from head to toe now. After that, they had started blaming each other for what had happened.

"This wouldn't have happened if you had just payed attention to what I was trying to tell you!"

"No, DiNozzo, this wouldn't have happened if I had left you in the car when you were asleep!"

"Kids, kids, kids! Not in front of my daughter, will you? DiNutso, measure the flour. Ron, get the butter. From now on I'm going to tell you what to do!"

After that, things started to look somewhat more positive and a few hours later, the group had about three dozens of small different gingerbread figures scattered on the kitchen table, each beautifully… khm… more line: uniquely decorated and ready to be eaten.

Emily, Sacks and Tony, all three extremely exhausted from the day's events, were sleeping soundly in the living room, with the little girl lying on top of the NCIS agent on the couch and Ron half-sitting, half-lying on the floor next to them. Emily looked as if she hadn't had a proper bath in about a week, and Fornell was sure he'd never hear the end of it if his ex-wife saw their daughter like that. And still, her state was nothing compared to the two 'adults' (though, right now, he wasn't sure the other agents should be considered adults at all) who still had some of the dough sticking to their hands, flour on their cheeks and colorful icing decorating their clothes.

This left, just like he had expected before, Tobias alone to do the cleaning, hoping to make the apartment somewhat presentable for the time Diane would arrive to criticize everything she'd find. That meant, he had another twenty-two minutes to wipe the counter, take down the garbage, pack everything into the dishwasher and sweep up the whole place. Yeah, no problem, really…

He briefly entertained the thought of waking those two idiots but then he quickly dismissed it: Ron, in his opinion, didn't deserve to be punished even more than he'd already been this last week, having to spend that much time with his least favorite NCIS agent… And DiNutso, well… He'd be crazy to put anything into the boy's hands that could cause more damage. And with that young man, that meant particularly _everything_. Besides, in the end he would claim he'd been forced to work like some sort of slave and complain to Jethro who would, in turn, make his whole life miserable because of it… No, better not to disturb either of them.

Naturally, he wasn't ready by the time Diane knocked, and he opened the door with a heavy churning in his stomach just by thinking about what was to come. Much to his surprise, as soon as she finished blinking in awe, his ex-wife smiled.

"Wow, you _baked_!?"

"Ahm… Khm… DiNutso's idea…" – Fornell muttered, and watched as the three others slowly woke and Emily, seeing her mother, jumped up.

"Mommy! Look what we made! Gingerbread! And they're very good, too!" – She grabbed her mother's hand and pulled her towards the table to show her their artwork. – "And there are gingerbread men and stars and shooting stars and half-moons and stockings and-"

"We only found a Christmas cutter set." – Explained Ron, somewhat shyly.

"And it was Uncle Tony's idea, mommy." – Emily continued, not minding her amused mother's raised eyebrow at the name. – "He is the _best_! Ever! He's so funny and can I invite him to us? Please! Pretty please!"

Tony blushed under Fornell and Sacks' glare.

"We'll talk about it, Darling. Please, grab your things."

"Okay!" – With that, she dashed into her room to pack, leaving the others in an uncomfortable silence, until Diane cleared her throat.

"So… 'Uncle Tony'… Emily seems to like you." – She stated strictly.

Tony gulped.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And she is very happy. She apparently had a good time." – The NCIS agent didn't really know what to say that that, so he just nodded. – "So, you have a way with children, right?"

Was this a tricky question? Tony turned to Fornell for help but didn't get any: the man only smirked at him. Great…

"Ahm…"

He was saved from having to answer when Emily, like a hurricane, came back, carrying her badly-packed bag in one hand and a stuffed animal in the other.

"Ready to go, Princess?"

"Yes, mommy!" – She gave kisses to everyone (Tony blushed again), and with an enthusiastic wave, the two females were gone.

As soon as the men were alone again, Fornell turned to his guests:

"So, I hope you'll help me clean up now because we've made quite a mess… The vacuum cleaner is- DiNutso, where are you going?" – Because Tony had already disappeared in the guest bedroom, yawning widely and climbing into the bed, not even bothering to change out of his dirty clothes.

"I'm tired, Toby…" – He whined. – "I'd have never thought that playing with a small child can be that exhausting…"

"DiNutso, I swear…"

Tony yawned again which muffled his next words.

"I caaaaaan't ahhhhm stay aaaawake any longer." – With that, he pulled the cover high up to his chin and turned away from the other two gaping agents.

"What the-." – Sacks shook his head, then just shrugged. – "Never mind." – He quickly grabbed the vacuum cleaner and tuned it to the highest suction power, which was also the loudest.

Tony didn't stir.

Fornell stood rooted to the spot for a moment, thinking hard about the situation. Finally, having made his decision, he pulled out a folder…

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Monday morning Tony strolled into the bullpen, whistling happily.

Gibbs, Kate and McGee, who had all arrived before him, stared in awe.

"What's with you today?" – Asked Kate, trying to decide whether to be worried or not. Her partner hadn't been at work the last week so she hadn't had the opportunity yet to make sure he was all right after what he'd been through. After what all of them had been through… She didn't even like thinking about it. Looking at her friend, she decided that he seemed fine. Good, she wouldn't need to go easy on him then; that wouldn't be fun.

"Good morning to you too, Kate." – Tony chirped. – "McBaffled! Close your mouth before you'll catch flies! Hehe! Boss! Hey!"

Gibbs was, for once in his life, totally caught off guard.

"DiNozzo… What…?"

Tony handed his boss a large, official-looking sealed envelope, smiling widely.

"From Fornell with love." – He explained with an expression as if he had just announced they'd get a month off with full payment. – "And from me, Boss. Just for you. Although I believe it's for all of us. And-"

"DiNozzo, slow down!" – Gibbs interrupted. Kate and Tim also seemed somewhat overwhelmed with the senior field agent's energy. The man was bouncing like an energizer bunny! – "Are you all right?"

"Yep! Better than all right. I'm fabulous!"

"Still, I know you were sick so I want you to go to Ducky. Have him check you out. Make sure-"

"Oh, Boss! Please! I'm really fine!"

The NCIS team leader looked sternly at his childishly behaving agent.

"It's not up for debate, young man. March to Ducky!"

Tony hung his head but obeyed anyway. Not that he had much of a choice: it had been a direct order from his team leader after all.

"Okay, okay…" – He didn't stop muttering to himself as he walked towards the elevator. – "Geez, one can't even be happy around here anymore without becoming suspicious…" – Anything else he was grumbling, the others couldn't hear anymore, because the lift doors closed, cutting off the words.

The two remaining agents watched as their boss tentatively opened the envelope, as if expecting it to suddenly blow up.

When Gibbs eventually tore it open and nothing happened, he slowly and carefully proceeded to pull out the file he found inside, all the while, he could feel his team's expectant eyes on him.

He unwrapped a small, folded paper that was attached to the documents using a paperclip and started to read the handwritten note. Then he read it again. His mouth turned upwards as he read it for the third time, finally grasping the real meaning.

That was the point when Kate couldn't take it anymore. She had watched her leader's changing expressions and now she wanted to know what was going on!

"Gibbs? What's that?"

A chuckle.

"Boss…?" – Tried Tim this time.

"Hah!" – Gibbs said finally. – "DiNozzo did it again. An excellent job."

Kate and Tim exchanged surprised glances.

"Tony…? But, Boss… He wasn't even here last week… How could he…?"

"Yeah, Gibbs. What did he do?" – Kate added.

"Oh, nothing, really. He was just himself. Sometimes, that's all it takes."

With that, he left to inform the director that they were off the hook: the FBI investigation hadn't been able to uncover any problems with their latest operation.

That was, at least, in the official report.

Unofficially though, Fornell's note gave some idea how it had really ended. And the two curious junior agents, couldn't they see the carelessly discarded note on the absent boss' desk with their own eyes, wouldn't believe ever:

' _Jethro, that boy of yours is a menace. I can't do this anymore. I'm giving up. No interview. Consider the case closed. We're done._

 _PS: He's fed, he drank tea, he took a bath, his clothes are washed. He's happy and healthy. He didn't work. I'm giving him back in pristine condition and I have witnesses!'_

There was another, smaller note too, with only 7, hurriedly scribbled words:

' _None of it is my fault. Sacks'_

 _AN.: Happy New Year!_ 😊


End file.
